


touch me, burn me.

by sundazed (adorabias)



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ice Skating, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, mentions of knights and ryuseitai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorabias/pseuds/sundazed
Summary: Alternate universe(s). In one life, there's flashing lights and scraped knuckles. In another, there's ballet practice and the cold, hard ice. In another, there's rainstorms and big sweaters and promises of forever. In every single one, there's Chiaki and Izumi finding each other again and again. 
in which Chiaki is a hopeless romantic and Izumi thinks he's just hopeless.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [decolark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decolark/gifts).



> another fun run of "dana tried to write a short birthday gift for someone and then it got super out of hand"
> 
> dedicated to the super lovely deco, happy belated birthday! i was inspired by "Don't Touch" so consider this a little homage to it...! thank you for filling my days and twitter timeline with chiaiz

 

_one._

“How many times do I have to tell you to be more careful?”

“Ahaha, just another time still, Sena! Sorry, sorry…”

Blue eyes flicked up to meet brown ones, judgment inflicted on well-intentioned joy. A sigh escaped Izumi’s lips before he looked back down, refocusing on the work that was still in front of him.

“You’re really pushing the limit, you know,” he continued to scold, his own deft fingers working to peel the bloodied bandages off of Chiaki’s hands.

A sheepish laugh escaped the other and Chiaki tilted his head, “I know, I know. But how else am I expected to improve? I have to keep pushing myself further and farther with every possible opportunity…!”

Of course he would say that. But he grew too excited, like he always did, shifting on Izumi’s couch and causing the boxing gloves that were settled next to him to fall onto the floor with a _thump_.

“I told you to stay still!” Izumi snapped, scowling.

“Sorry, sorry…!!”

It was so routine for them that they might as well have been reciting lines.

The last of the hand wrap fell to the floor next to the boxing gloves, Izumi frowning as he saw how the blood bloomed against the white fabric. Chiaki followed the other’s gaze before managing another sheepish smile, as if that would be enough to chase away the concern and worry that he saw clouding the other’s eyes.

“Izumi…” he breathed softly in the space between them, earning the other’s attention even as he reached to grab alcohol to disinfect the wounds.

In truth, he’d grown to be remarkably good at this – at making sure that Chiaki was taken care of even after his sparring practices, always going the extra mile to make sure that his hands wouldn't scar too badly even though Chiaki didn’t understand – he would simply be tearing them up again next week.

But Izumi, ever the perfectionist, insisted that just because Chiaki was a brute didn’t mean that his hands had to look like a battlefield all their own.

“I don’t know if you’re actually sorry,” Izumi hummed, his tone light but not without an edge.

Chiaki laughed quietly. Oops. By now, he’d gotten quite skilled at knowing when he’d irritated his boyfriend.

“I am…” he assured, shaking his head fondly even as he leaned in closer. He scooted forward to close the space between himself and Izumi. At least the other didn’t move _away_. “I mean – it’s hard to be sorry when I have to do my training regardless… but I’m sorry that I always have to bug you for this.”

“You should be. It’s a lot of work,” Izumi agreed easily.

To which Chiaki laughed – he didn’t doubt it, after all. Izumi would be home from a photo shoot, all warm and comfortable in a sweater and yet almost wordlessly he’d retrieve the first aid kit once Chiaki walked through the door. Ever since they started dating, Izumi took it upon himself to be both a model and a nurse and Chiaki was never sure how to thank him enough.

Leaning forward so that he could rest his forehead against Izumi’s, peering at him through his bangs, Chiaki offered a smile. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so much trouble for you.”

Those piercing blue eyes glanced back up at him again – but at least this time a small, amused smile played across Izumi’s lips.

“Well you can’t exactly help that. You’re a bit of an idiot.”

Despite the insult, Chiaki chuckled.

Something about the way that Izumi said ‘idiot’ still sounded a lot like ‘I like you anyway’ and that was enough for him.

The model pulled back, lifting Chiaki’s hand to inspect it. He sighed as he cleaned off the dried blood that had stained the skin around his champion’s knuckles. “Really, you’re a mess… I don’t even get why – is it some stupid jock thing?”

“You mean my job?” Chiaki laughed, amused as he didn’t even flinch anymore as Izumi took to cleaning the wounds themselves. “Mm, it’s hard to explain! I guess that’s something you’d have to experience for yourself…”

He paused. Then frowned. On second thought -

“Well, not that I want you to. Please don’t actually do that…”

“Ha?” Izumi frowned, looking up at Chiaki now with an almost affronted look. “You don’t think that I could handle myself?”

Chiaki blinked, surprised. How had the conversation flipped around to this—

And it’s not like he could disagree with that statement. Izumi had the flexibility and the strength of a ballerina, sure, but that was a little bit different than actually getting scrappy in the field of mixed martial arts. How could someone who hated even sweating really manage to switch places with Chiaki in the ring?

—though that also admittedly wasn’t his first thought.

Taking a moment to switching their hands around, so that Chiaki’s fingers instead carefully held onto Izumi’s, the brawler shook his head.

“Nah. I’ve seen you when you get really mad – I think you could actually hurt some paparazzi one day?” Chiaki started before carefully lifting the other’s hand up to his face. Soft, pale skin – a hand that still managed to fit perfectly in his own.

Chiaki so loved Izumi’s hands.

Untouched and unscarred. They held an elegance that Chiaki’s hands never possessed, too used to being scraped up and knicked in his recklessness.

He pressed his lips to the back of Izumi’s hand, humming as he did before pulling back.

“I just don’t want this to change – where you’re soft in ways that I’m not. If you never have to find out what it’s like to feel pain or draw blood, even for sport… I think that’d be better. I think it’d suit you more.”

Izumi Sena was known for words so sharp that they could draw blood – but Chiaki knew that in moments like this, in the comfort of Izumi’s apartment that had become his second home, that there was someone he only wanted to protect and cherish.

Someone who would be there to nurse Chiaki’s wounds in turn.

“… That’s not a bad answer,” Izumi mumbled, sighing as he drew his hand out of Chiaki’s hold. “I guess.”

The brunette merely laughed – then winced as Izumi suddenly pressed a towel against the open cracks on his knuckles.

The sting of the pressure was then quickly replace by the feeling of Izumi’s soft lips kissing ever so lightly over the injury.

“Huh?” Chiaki asked dumbly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still think that the fact that you get paid to fight like some kind of barbarian is dumb and primitive,” Izumi answered immediately. “… but the idea of you trying to get stronger and being the best at what you do… that suits you too, in a way. It’s a pain in the ass – but who else will put up with you? So it’s not like I can leave you alone or anything. That’d be too pitiful.”

… Chiaki almost laughed. _Almost_. But he was rather sure that would just make Izumi all the harsher when he would treat his second hand.

“Well, we agree on one thing!” he said instead.

Izumi looked up again, almost curious - and partially afraid, because Chiaki’s confident declarations could be so dangerously dumb sometimes.

To which Chiaki gave a smile, careless and stupid.

“Me without you would just be pitiful.”

 

* * *

 

_two._

 

Izumi was _flexible_.

That had been a point of pride for years – very few people could do what Izumi could, even among those in his ballet class – and even now he couldn’t deny that it was something that made him feel more than a little bit arrogant.

After all, who wouldn’t want to be flexible?

It was convenient, showed discipline, and more than that, it was damn sexy.

Case in point: Chiaki, a hockey player with absolutely no ballet training and bruises likely caused from slamming into other bodies rather than the ice, was _obsessed_ with Izumi’s legs.

He would try to pretend that he wasn’t, of course. That was Chiaki Morisawa, the Good Boy among the ruffian hockey players, he couldn’t be tempted by something so sensual as a figure skater’s— … well, a figure skater’s everything.

And yet.

“Really? Even this far?” Chiaki questioned, voice echoing throughout the otherwise empty dance room. There was no denying the awe and surprise that colored his question, but Izumi was far, far more interested in the traces of desire that he found laced through it.

There was definitely a smirk on his face, even with his knee hooked around Chiaki’s shoulder as the other hovered over him, his leg straight as an arrow as he felt the ever so pleasing stretch of his muscles.

“Mm, try farther,” he instructed – even though some part of this was a rather hilarious game to see how many of the golden boy’s buttons he could push, he actually did need to get properly stretched for ballet practice.

“Ah – okay! Let me know if I hurt you, Sena…” Chiaki worried, but shifted so that he could lean in closer to Izumi, his muscles tensing as he practically lowered himself into a push-up – you know, just on top of Izumi.

Izumi was almost impressed. Weaker men most certainly would have cracked by now.

Regardless, he scoffed. “Doubt it.”

“Oh, confidence! That’s good!” Chiaki hummed, even with his face hovering right over Izumi’s, nevermind that his calf was practically right against his cheek—

“Ah, wait?”

Izumi stared. “Wait for what?”

Careful as he turned, Chiaki tilted his head to get a better look, humming in confusion as he noticed a place on Izumi’s skin that was dark with discoloration. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m a figure skater,” Izumi deadpanned, as if that would be enough to explain everything Chiaki. Then, remembering who he was talking to, he continued to elaborate, “I don’t fall often, mind you, but even I can’t escape a bruise here and there when I do. And only when I’m trying to land a quad or something—”

“Mm, I know. You’re beautiful,” Chiaki hummed.

Izumi raised a brow.

“Uh,” Chiaki stuttered, realizing that blue eyes were trained on him. “I mean, um – your skating is beautiful? But you’re beautiful too! That’s not – what I said first wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t what I meant but…!”

God, had he been hit in the head with a hockey stick recently?

Either way, Chiaki’s attention went back to the bruise – which made Izumi shift uncomfortably, grumbling immediately. “Hey. Get off. This leg is done.”

It’s not like he was sore or anything but he’d rather not have to deal with Chiaki’s open staring for much longer. Bruises were unsightly, evidence of mistakes that he’d made that otherwise would never be known.

“Oh!” Chiaki startled, leaning back up off Izumi slowly, the other’s leg following him as he eased off. “Understood.”

Then, as if he was the one who was setting the pace here – he wasn’t! – Chiaki immediately went to collect Izumi’s other leg and set it over his parallel shoulder.

“Hey!” Izumi growled, irritated even though he was about to do the exact same thing.

But it was already too late. Chiaki’s eyes had zeroed in on another bruise, this one closer to Izumi’s thigh and he tilted his head. “I suppose given the momentum for your jumps, you must hit the ice pretty hard, Sena…”

The moron had his puppy dog eyes going, a small pout pulling at his lips as if he truly felt Izumi’s pain and – the infuriating thing is that Izumi sincerely bought it.

Chiaki was so gross.

“It doesn’t matter – it’s all practice until I can consistently land them and then I won’t hit the ice anymore. That’s just how it is,” he explained. Sure, the impact against the ice was never pleasant – it was biting and relentless, the cold ground provided zero give for cushioning. But that was the price of aiming for perfection. A figure skater’s body was ready to take some abuse as long as the end result was looking like an angel gliding impossibly on sleet, defying the very nature of the elements.

Perhaps it was because the freezing embrace of ice was all that Izumi had gotten accustomed to that he didn’t know what to do when Chiaki’s warm lips pressed a brief kiss to the bruise against his thigh.

His breath might’ve hitched a bit.

“Mm, there! All better,” Chiaki hummed, as if the bruise wasn’t a few days old by now even. All the pain that there might’ve been was most certainly gone now.

Yet Izumi couldn’t help but fixate on that contrast.

Where the cold skating rink had once bit into him, Chiaki’s lips had felt like they were burning.

“Wh-What do you think you’re doing…?!” he spluttered regardless, feeling his face heat up.

“Mm?” Chiaki tilted his head. His lips curved into an angelic smile, but something in his eyes danced with heat and mischief. All too easily, he moved to lean forward so that he could hover over Izumi again. “I’m helping you stretch, Sena! Just like you asked.”

Furrowing his brow, Izumi looked up at Chiaki even as his muscles began to sing, feeling the familiar pull of a good stretch.

The other only met the dubious look with a smile and a laugh.

Izumi’s skin still tingled where Chiaki’s mouth had been.

Hmph.

Maybe Izumi underestimated him a little bit.

 

* * *

 

_three._

 

Chiaki couldn’t believe that he found his soulmate.

More than that, he couldn’t believe that his soulmate refused to accept him.

It had been the stuff of fairytales that he’d been told since he was younger – that one day, you would find someone whose skin was marked to match yours, as if an artist had painted you both with the same brush, and from there it would be happily ever after. It would be as easy as breathing, it would be fireworks erupting every second, it would be the true meaning of peace.

The thing is – Chiaki felt all of that with Izumi.

He felt it in the way that his heartbeat slowed, for once not frantic and frenzied and dying to be noticed, but as if he was finally content with his path in life when he stood next to Izumi. He felt it in the way his breath hitched when he heard the other’s rare laugh, how he’d always turn toward it immediately as if he could capture the sound of it and keep it forever because he’d never heard anything so beautiful.

He felt it in the way that when they stood next to each other, he had to clench his hands into fists because his fingers so desperately wanted to be intertwined with Izumi’s.

But Izumi didn’t seem to buy it.

“I understand why you would want me to be your soulmate, but give it up, alright?” the other crossed his arms and raised a brow. “There’s no way that could be true. Someone like me isn’t meant to be with someone like _you_.”

It was haunting.

Izumi had been saying that for a week now – it had been a week since they crossed paths and Chiaki felt his entire world shift. He’d been dauntless in his pursuit, had been so excited that he found his soulmate that he threw his arms around Izumi in a hug without giving his name - much less an explanation - at first.

But Izumi didn’t share his excitement, didn’t even seem to share his feelings. It was… well, baffling.

At the very least, they’d managed to spend some time together – Izumi’s friends were a lot more amiable to the idea of Chiaki being Izumi’s soulmate after Chiaki had so eagerly opened up his shirt and displayed the tattoo that was marked onto his shoulder. It had been with him for years as he waited to come across someone who matched him, who played his heart strings like a violin.

A crescent moon, bathed in cold blues and silvery hues.

No one had told him what Izumi’s tattoo was – but they all agreed that it matched Chiaki’s.

(“Oh, that definitely makes sense,” Arashi had hummed after giving Chiaki a once-over, then laughing lightly. “No wonder Izumi-chan is in such denial.”

“The moon is fitting too,” Ritsu yawned. “How long before he gives in, do you think?”

Tsukasa blinked, looking between the two of them.

“Are you taking bets on Sena-senpai’s love life?”)

Arashi had been the most willing to assist in Chiaki’s endeavor, exchanging numbers and inviting Chiaki whenever their group would be going out. It gave Chiaki a chance to glimpse into Izumi’s life and considering the fact that Chiaki was never alone – as if Kanata, Midori, Tetora, or Shinobu could ever be left out of any momentous occasion in his life – Izumi ended up getting a glimpse of Chiaki’s.

Every single day suggested to Chiaki more and more that they fit like puzzle pieces.

But a week had passed and Izumi refused to even considering the idea, turning Chiaki down or changing the subject whenever they might’ve even breached the subject. At some point, Izumi had threatened to simply walk away whenever Chiaki hinted at it and—

It was one thing to be rejected soundly, but it was another to watch Izumi retreat from him entirely.

Chiaki couldn’t stand the idea of not being next to him.

(“Is he really going to be okay?” Midori questioned when Chiaki had come back one day only to slump over on the couch as soon as he returned.

“They say the pull is even worse the first couple days,” Tetora sighed. “He’s probably feeling extra fatigued trying to resist it…”

“I didn’t think that there would be something that could tire even Morisawa-donno…!”

The other two nodded in agreement. Shinobu spoke the truth for all of them.)

But apparently the gods had seen enough of this seemingly endless game of cat and mouse.

Chiaki took it upon himself to walk Izumi home one day - partially for safety reasons, but mostly because he took every opportunity he could to be next to the other - and just as he’d turned to step off Izumi’s doorstep, the skies opened and released an almost torrential downpour of rain.

Holding a hand out to it, reaching past the safe, dry covering that the roof provided, Chiaki caught a small pool of rainwater in his palm. “Was this even in the forecast today?”

There was a moment where he seemed thoughtful, tilting his head to appraise the situation. His house was a thirty minute walk from Izumi’s but it would probably be shorter if he ran. But even then, it would probably guarantee a cold in his future. Those would be very difficult odds to beat.

Nodding silently to himself, he took a step back to push himself off, readying to sprint anyway.

“Okay! Here I go—ugh?!”

A hand reaching out to grab his collar was not at all expected. Chiaki almost fell from how off-guard he was.

Falling and choking right in front of his soulmate. Nice. That sounded romantic.

But he was barely saved from that fate, only stumbling instead before he looked back at the other boy with a befuddled gaze.

“Mm? Did I forget something, Sena?”

“Your brain, apparently!” A judgmental eyebrow quirked upward. The look in Izumi’s eyes could only be described as disbelief. “You’ll get soaked if you run through that? And then what - you’ll get sick? And then you’ll _still_ want to hang out with me? Gross! I don’t want your germs!”

“Huh?” Chiaki blinked. “Well - you’re not wrong but - I guess I wouldn’t want you to get sick so-”

“So get inside, moron.”

Izumi put his hands on his hips even as he stared up at Chiaki, his brow furrowing into a glare.

… is it bad that Chiaki thought that was pretty cute too?

“What’s with that look on your face?” he pressed further. “Don’t make me repeat myself…!”

“A-Ah, okay!” Chiaki jumped - quite literally leaping at the opportunity. He slid past Izumi, hopping to pull his sneakers off his feet as he announced himself, “Pardon the intrusion…!”

“Don’t get anything dirty,” Izumi huffed, entering after as he toed off his own shoes far more quietly. Closing the door behind him, he sighed. “Mama and Papa are on a trip and shouldn’t be back until tomorrow… but that’s not a free pass for you to be rowdy.”

Glancing back at Izumi, Chiaki turned that over in his head a few times.

Mama and Papa? So wait - Izumi’s parents weren’t home? So it was just the two of them in the house.

Didn’t Kaoru tell him about when girls texted him things like that and -

“Did you catch a fever already?” Izumi interrupted Chiaki, staring at him incredulously. “Your face is red?”

“Aaahhh!” Chiaki yelled, apparently caught red-handed - or red-faced? He covered his face with both hands, feeling the warmth of his own cheeks beneath his palms. “Uh, no - n-no way! A hero’s constitution is much stronger than that…!”

But apparently a hero’s poker face was _weak._

“... Uh-huh,” Izumi deadpanned, moving past Chiaki to enter further into the house. “Well, don’t break anything in your excitement, hero. My house isn’t idiot-proof.”

“U-U-Understood…!” Chiaki stuttered, hand placed over his chest. His heart was a hummingbird in his ribcage. There’s no way that Izumi meant to imply that anything would happen between them here - that much was obvious from how the other was so unruffled… and it’s not like Izumi accepted that they were soulmates in the first place. It was definitely just Chiaki’s overactive imagination running away with him.

Once his skin tone was back to its usual pallor, he followed in after Izumi.

… Now that he thought about it, this was his first time being inside Izumi’s house, wasn’t it?

Glancing around, he found little pieces of a story that he didn’t recognize - not _really_ \- but felt in his heart to be familiar.

Izumi’s parents were clearly the doting type, keeping pictures of him from all ages throughout the house.

A small, bright-eyed child on what appeared to be Christmas day, pulling out a teddy bear as big as he was. A teenager with a bright smile and a crown, holding onto a giant bouquet of roses after what appeared to be some kind of performance. A young man, confident and proud as he was being handed some kind of award.

Raising his hands to trace the curve of one of Izumi’s ballet photographs, Chiaki breathed out a sigh.

So these were the experiences that made the person that his very essence was tied to.

“That was before I gave up ice skating. They said I had the flexibility and balance for it, but it took up too much time. I hate waking up early just to go to some stupid rink?”

Chiaki smiled at the sound of Izumi’s voice coming back into the room. It was easy to imagine. Izumi was just as cool and sleek and ephemeral as ice.

“It would’ve suited you, though,” Chiaki hummed as he turned back to Izumi with an open-hearted smile. “You’re really talented and disciplined… It’s kind of a shame. They’re missing out by not having you.”

“... I don’t know where you find the nerve to say shit like that,” Izumi huffed as he walked closer. He’d come back into the living room freshly changed and with two mugs in hand. He handed one over to Chiaki.

As their fingers brushed when Chiaki went to grab the mug, he couldn’t help but notice the way that the sleeves of Izumi’s sweater stretched past his fingertips.

Sweater paws?

… Ah, his heart was going to burst from how endeared he was.

“It’s just true,” Chiaki laughed, warm and sincere before he took a sip of the warm beverage. Maybe putting the cup to his mouth would keep him from commenting on how adorable Izumi looked. Yet when he took a sip, he found himself pleasantly surprised. Blinking after it slipped down his throat, he questioned, “Hot chocolate?”

Izumi had already turned away to go sit on the couch.

“You don’t do tea or coffee, right?”

Chiaki’s chest bloomed with warmth.

“I… guess I just didn’t expect you to notice.”

“... Anyway,” Izumi grumbled after a pause, as if embarrassed. “What did you do as a kid?”

“Mm?” Chiaki made a questioning noise as he walked around to the couch, though he didn’t yet sit. He felt like he had too much energy to be able to sit next to Izumi without fidgeting still. “You care?”

“Shut up, don’t make me sound so heartless,” Izumi huffed. “But you’re in my house and looking at all my stuff? Don’t let it be so uneven.”

“Oh - you’re right!” Chiaki startled, then thinking back. “Mm, alright…! Let’s see, I’m Chiaki Morisawa, age eighteen, high school senior. My hobbies are watching hero shows and playing basketball. My favorite color is re—whoa!”

He barely managed to catch the pillow that Izumi had chucked at him without spilling his hot chocolate.

“I already know all those things, stupid! And don’t say something dumb like ‘You noticed!’ again because anyone who talks with you for five minutes would know any of those things,” Izumi complained. “You’re way too open.”

“Ahaha, okay, okay! I get it - you’re frustrated that I’m telling you things that everyone else already knows… that’s fair. My soulmate should be able to know more about me,” Chiaki nodded, carefully tossing the pillow back to Izumi.

“We’re not soulmates.”

“We are,” Chiaki insisted. Then before Izumi could argue again, he hummed. “Let’s see… My name is Chiaki Morisawa and - when I was little, I wanted to be a pilot! It seemed really fun, to be free like that… and I could go to so many different places and help a lot of different people! If I could be a hero for the world, that’d be fun…”

“... tch. Sounds like you.”

But apart from that, Izumi didn’t comment. Apparently this was Chiaki’s chance to share.

Walking around with his mug, Chiaki continued, “Mm - and after that, I wanted to be a fighter!”  Getting into a slight crouch, as if already familiar with a battle stance, he punched the air with his free hand. “It’s violent though - and I don’t really like that sort of thing? But I do still think it’s important to be strong so that you can protect what’s important to you!”

“... Mm,” Izumi hummed. “You don’t seem like the type to fight for fun. Could you even hurt a fly?”

“I don’t like to but…” Chiaki shrugged, which probably proved Izumi’s point. Regardless he hummed, trying to think of more things to share.

In this moment, Izumi was watching him. Paying attention to him. Interested in _him_.

The tension that had existed in his bones all week finally began to settle.

Taking the seat next to Izumi, Chiaki recounted a few more things -

“I like… a lot of things. I like action movies, especially the kind with heroes and monsters - ah, don’t give me that look, okay? I’m not done yet!”

Izumi huffed, but settled himself further against the arm of the couch, facing Chiaki with his mug warming his hands.

It was a shame, Chiaki thought. Izumi looked so comfortable, so open and relaxed - all he wanted to do was take him into his arms.

But he didn’t. Instead, he continued, “I like those movies - well, because they’re really cool of course! Really fun, really fast…! But ah… Hm, I guess… I like the way that everything works out at the end. Even if the world itself is ending? Isn’t that amazing? To be facing those odds, but the heroes are dauntless! I want to be like that.”

“Well,” Izumi rolled his eyes. “In my opinion, you’re pretty persistent.”

Glancing over to the soulmate that refused to accept him, Chiaki merely chuckled. “When it comes to things that are important to me… that’s true!”

As if he’d heard something unpleasant, Izumi shifted uncomfortably. For a moment, he occupied himself with placing his mug on the side table. “That’s what I’m talking about. But it’s not like the world’s going to end if we’re not soulmates, you know? You should be able to stand on your own two feet anyway. It’s not like everyone finds their soulmate anyway.”

At the very least, it’s not like Izumi was wrong.

Chiaki frowned, thinking about the people he’d heard of and met who went through their entire lives not running into their soulmate, never finding a match to their tattoo. At some point they accepted it - or they were uncomfortable with the idea of having a soulmate in the first place. All the while, they never lived lesser lives.

“But that’s not how it is for us.” Chiaki frowned, setting his mug aside as he turned toward Izumi entirely. “You’re my soulmate. I know it.”

“As if,” Izumi scoffed. “You don’t get to just decide something like that. A relationship is a two-way thing, you know. What are you going to do? Bug me until I give in?”

“Of course not!” Chiaki exclaimed, eyebrows raising.

Izumi paused, as if he hadn’t expected that. Whatever argument he apparently expected to have wasn’t coming. Had he really thought that Chiaki would force this on him?

Shaking his head, he immediately tried to clear that up, “That’s not it at all. If you really don’t want to be with me, that’s okay…! It’s - It’s not what I expected, I admit… but that’s fine!”

Kanata had always said that Chiaki was too giving, too willing to let what he wanted go if it meant better things for other people.

But if not returning Chiaki’s feelings was better for Izumi, then how could Chiaki ever deny him that?

“It’s okay if you don’t love me.”

Brow furrowing, those icy blue eyes evaluated Chiaki. Izumi tilted his head ever so slightly, as if calm, but his hands betrayed his anxiety. His arms curled around himself, fingers bunching the cloth of his sweater at the elbows.

“... What happened to not giving up, huh?” Izumi tested, as if not sure where to go from here. “Not that I want you to keep trying or anything - but that’s a pretty sad end for a hero, don’t you think? Is that really what you want?”

“... I really don’t get what you want me to say anymore,” Chiaki admitted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “But… even if you don’t love me, that doesn’t mean that I don’t get what I want. I mean - you’re right! It’s not what I thought I would get out of a soulmate, but who says that soulmates have to be romantic? Or that they’re always returned? Maybe you have someone else as your soulmate…!”

Yet even as the words left his lips,Chiaki felt his heart ache.

Shaking his head, as if that would be enough to discard the pain of it, he pressed onward. “But that’s okay… As long as you let me stay by your side somehow, that’s okay. Just because you don’t think I’m your soulmate doesn’t mean that it has to be over between us? It’s a little frustrating but… the fire in my heart can still burn on its own. I don’t expect you to change your mind but if you can stand having me next to you for a while longer… that’s all I want.”

The other boy fell silent, gaze falling down to the space between them on the couch. His knees curled up closer to his chest. He almost looked lost in his own home.

Guilt falling heavily onto his shoulders, Chiaki gulped. “Or if that’s too much, then I can--”

“No,” Izumi interrupted. “Don’t go.”

The silence between them stretched the span of a few heartbeats.

Tentatively, Chiaki shifted over on the couch, closing some of the space between himself and where Izumi was curled up.

“... Okay,” he spoke, softly and carefully. “I won’t.”

It wasn’t in Chiaki’s nature to move slowly - but he often had a better read on people than he was normally given credit for. Izumi’s discomfort was tightly coiled, as if it could snap at any sudden movement.

Carefully, Chiaki let his fingers brush over Izumi’s.

Wordlessly, the other’s unfurled just enough to let his fingertips curl around Chiaki’s.

“... Izumi—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Izumi breathed out the words out harshly, soundly interrupting Chiaki. “I still don’t think that we’re soulmates. There’s no way that that can be true.”

It’s the same thing that he’d been saying all week.

Biting his tongue, Chiaki kept himself from snapping forth like a wisp of fire. Instead, he questioned as carefully as he could, “... Why not? I know - I’m often berated as though as I’m a fool or I do things without thinking… and if those are the reasons why then I suppose I understand but—”

The broken pieces of Chiaki’s heart were getting stuck in his throat.

“Do you really not feel anything?”

Izumi’s fingers in Chiaki’s hand tensed and Chiaki was almost startled when those cold blue eyes shot up, glaring fiercely.

“Don’t make assumptions about what I feel, you buffoon.”

“Izumi….!” Chiaki complained, his own frustration beginning to seep through the cracks. “You’re not exactly making it easy to follow, you know!”

Like a cornered animal, Izumi’s teeth grit as he spat back angrily.

“You try having a soulmate that you don’t deserve - that’s way too good for you - and then tell me how easy it is to accept how you feel!”

Stunned, Chiaki fumbled over what he was going to say next. If there was anything that he expected to leave Izumi’s mouth, it certainly wasn’t that.

“This week has been _hell_ and you haven’t even been able to notice - you’re too blindsided with the idea of being in love which I guess is how this soulmate bullshit is supposed to work,” Izumi snapped. “Which makes _sense_ , especially for someone like you. You have so much to give and I—

“I can’t match that. You can’t expect me to match that. Anyone who’s ever known me can’t expect me to match that - so that’s why it has to be a mistake.”

It took Chiaki a moment to realize that Izumi had been saying the exact same thing all week.

_Someone like me isn’t meant to be with someone like_ you.

He’d just been too busy thinking that he wasn’t enough for Izumi to realize that the other boy’s thoughts mirrored his exactly.

At some point, Izumi’s fingers had twisted into Chiaki’s, a messy, clumsy entanglement that kept them together.

“I didn’t realize,” Chiaki breathed.

“Of course you didn’t, you oaf. That was the _point_ —”

“No, I mean,” he shook his head. Brown eyes met exhausted blue and despite everything, despite the ache in his chest and the way that he almost wanted to cry, Chiaki gave a soft smile. “I didn’t realize that you wanted to hold my hand too.”

He didn’t want to waste any more time.

His fingers slipped out of Izumi’s. There was a brief moment, a half-second where Izumi’s hand reached forward, outstretching as if to chase Chiaki’s - and then he was engulfed in the brunette’s embrace entirely.

Instinctively, as if his body had known the motion all his life, Izumi’s arms circled around Chiaki and his fingers dug into his jacket.

“Wh-What do you think you’re…!” he still sputtered.

“I know exactly what it’s like to have a soulmate I don’t deserve,” Chiaki answered, confident and unrelenting as he let his body fit against Izumi’s like puzzle pieces. “Because I have you.”

Beneath him, Izumi glared. His mouth still fit into a scowl, but even then there was something relenting in his gaze. It was not nearly as cut-off, as distant as it once was. Some part of him was raw and exposed - even a little bit hopeful.

“That’s not right,” Izumi countered. His lips found the shapes of words that he no longer seemed to believe in. “You don’t get to just say that—”

“But I’m not!” Chiaki had found the truth that laid beneath Izumi’s frigid surface. He wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m really, really not… because even if it’s someone like me, who gets told that he’s too simple or too naive… Even you said that I’m too open, right? But - you let me be next to you anyway.”

Izumi’s chest rose and fell with the breath he took, even as he kept his gaze locked on Chiaki’s.

“I’m not like you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Even I’m not that foolish,” Chiaki laughed faintly. “But I don’t need you to be like me… I’d never want that. I just want you to be… you.”

Even if Izumi hadn’t been able to accept that they were soulmates for a full seven days, even if Chiaki nearly lost him as quick as he’d found him, even if they kept fighting forever over whether or not they really deserved this match -

“I think that’s the thing about soulmates. I’ll always want mine to be you.”

Izumi’s head ducked forward, burying his face into Chiaki’s shoulder. The scoop neck of his sweater fell slightly with the movement, revealing the skin of his shoulder. Color peeked out against the paleness of his bare skin, curling red.

Chiaki couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Maybe it’s me being a buffoon like you say…. Or I bought into too many of these stories as a kid but - I feel like I’ve known you since the beginning, even before my first heartbeat.

“Like - even if you did take up skating or if I did end up being some kind of fighter or… or something even crazier! Like if we were swordsmen or superheroes or something cool and impossible like that, it wouldn’t matter. Because it’d still be you and me.”

Shifting, Chiaki cupped Izumi’s jaw with one hand and guided his head up. There was no helping it. Izumi was glaring at him, face infuriated but also entirely red. Chiaki’s favorite color.

“Every single time,” Chiaki continued as he moved to rest his forehead on Izumi’s, his grin so warm that it rivaled the brightness of the sun. “Every single life - you’d still be the one for me.”

Even then, Izumi’s gaze could only be called incredulous. Yet even as he stared back into Chiaki’s eyes, there was nothing malicious in his gaze. The flash of irritation that Chiaki was so used to seeing wasn’t there, traded instead for something thoughtful. Still, he wondered if his words weren’t enough, if somehow Izumi still didn’t quite believe him.

And then Izumi closed the remaining space between them.

Almost immediately, the smaller boy sighed into the kiss and his shoulders relaxed, as if the tightly coiled anxiety that he had felt finally eased with his lips pressed against Chiaki’s.

When he pulled back, the uncertainty was replaced entirely by smugness.

“Hmph.” His lips curled slowly into a smirk. “You said your favorite color was red, right? I guess it does suit you.”

Of course he was referring to the bright shade of crimson that heated up Chiaki’s entire face once again.

“Ah - uh. Well…!” It was his turn to sputter.

“What happened to all those words you had at the ready before?” Izumi leaned up again. Even though he was the one beneath Chiaki, it all too suddenly felt like the control had slipped from the brunette’s fingers. “Hah - I didn’t think my soulmate would be so easy to play.”

“I-I’m not…! Don’t be so - wait.” Chiaki struggled to find words even still, the phantom feeling of Izumi’s lips against his own lingering. “Did you say your soulmate?”

Raising a brow, Izumi sighed as he shifted again. Reaching up to where the neckline of his sweater had already fallen slightly, he pulled at it some more to let it cascade down.

A warm sun inked his shoulder, its red tendrils reaching and reaching out to paint pale skin. It burst with warmth, so shamelessly open.

Leaning down, Chiaki pressed a kiss to the center of it.

Izumi shivered beneath him and it was not long before he was pushed off with a noise that was some mixture of irritated and startled - but still delightful to Chiaki’s ears.

“Pervert,” Izumi huffed as he fixed his clothes, pulling his sweater back to cover himself. “You still have to ask permission.”

“Then can I -”

“No.”

“Wait, let me finish,” Chiaki laughed, embarrassed at how quickly Izumi rejected him. “I was going to ask… can I just lay with you?”

There was a brief look on Izumi’s face that clearly read ‘I want to say no…’ before he rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

But of course, Izumi Sena never did anything that wasn’t on his own terms. Instead of simply making more room for Chiaki, he swung his legs over his lap instead and let his arms wrap around his neck, draped over him easily like a cat.

Chiaki raised his eyebrows but said nothing, instead choosing to laugh as he fell back comfortably curled up with his soulmate.

“Hey, Izumi…” he eventually broke the silence, causing the other to open one eye and look up a him. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“... fine,” the other yawned even as he refused to lift his head from Chiaki’s chest. It was funny how quick the change had been, and yet Chiaki couldn’t help but wonder if this was the effect of resisting the soulmate pull for a full seven days. Izumi had simply gone from one end of the spectrum to the other. It was still incredible to think that for every time that Chiaki wanted to hold Izumi in his arms, the other boy mirrored the feeling. “My name is Izumi Sena, age eighteen. High school senior. I like lakes and messing with underclassmen.”

A thoughtful pause and he shifted, turning his head more into Chiaki’s shoulder.

Wordlessly, he left a brief kiss over the moon tattoo that he knew rested underneath.

“And my soulmate is a persistent moron who doesn’t know how to take a fucking hint.”

Chiaki’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling. Ah yes, the face of an angel with the tongue of a snake.

Yet as Izumi adjusted again, ending the conversation effectively by burying his face into Chiaki’s chest, the soulmate-turned-pillow still somehow found it very hard to mind. His fingers came up to where he knew Izumi’s sun tattoo was imprinted, ghosting over the spot with light traces. It wasn’t visible, but Chiaki didn’t think that particularly mattered.

He didn’t need a tattoo to know that he would - and will - fall for Izumi every single time.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feel free to follow me @sunwritten on twitter which is where i yell about my enstars headcanons and wail about writing.


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